


we all know now, we all got crowns

by dreamer89



Series: slytherin goals [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ADHD, BAMF Astoria Greengrass, BAMF Hermione Granger, Canon Compliant, Gen, Hogwarts Eighth Year, POV Hermione Granger, Personal Growth, Post-War, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Smart Is The New Sexy, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22604671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamer89/pseuds/dreamer89
Summary: After returning to Hogwarts for the 1998-1999 school year, Hermione is subjected to ADHD!Astoria Greengrass in all her IDGAF glory. But there's a hell of a lot more to both of them than labels and judgments, and it's high time we cast a Banishing Charm at the desire to pit smart girls against each other.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: slytherin goals [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601380
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	we all know now, we all got crowns

_It was a strange phenomenon how you always seemed to know everyone in the years ahead of you but had only a vague idea about those in the years behind you_ , Hermione thought to herself one morning in the Great Hall. She was certain that she was the oldest student in the school now, as she didn’t recall that anyone else who returned to re-do their seventh year also had a September birthday. To be honest, she didn’t even remember the names of some of the younger Gryffindors, not to mention those from the other Houses. 

It wasn’t something she had to worry about this year, because she turned down Head Girl and all of the mentally draining responsibilities that she knew would come with it. She had, of course, woken up in a cold sweat the morning after she sent the owl, second-guessing the decision to decline. But Ron convinced her she’d made the right call.

However, there was one student in particular--who she hadn’t paid much attention to before--but who was impossible _not_ to notice. Whilst getting caught up on what had gone on in the castle in her absence, Hermione had heard many “Drunk Astoria” stories from the previous year. Despite claiming to now be more invested in her future, the Slytherin girl hadn’t brought her partying days to an end. “You want to do half pumpkin juice, half fizzy water, then you put two shots of vodka in there and you won’t even taste a thing,” Hermione found her telling a group of girls from her perch on the girls’ bathroom windowsill, where she was sharing a cigarette with Parkinson. At least, Hermione hoped it was only tobacco. 

By the end of the first week of term, Hermione had become inexplicably intrigued by Astoria Greengrass, to Harry’s amused satisfaction after she subjected him to a rant that sounded far too similar to one of his own regarding Malfoy. Astoria seemed to be on a different wavelength than everyone else. Not in the way that Luna was, though. Astoria was radiating with energy and overflowing with ideas--but less like a bubbling cauldron of Felix Felicis and more like a Chernobyl nuclear reactor. It was exhausting just listening to her sometimes. Like the time Hermione was forced to overhear her speaking to a Hufflepuff sixth-year in the corridor, because Astoria could be both a fast talker and a _loud_ talker.

“I had a very productive summer,” she said. “I agitated Slytherin House into a state of youthful rebellion, facilitated a takeover of Malfoy Manor, and learnt how to do liquid eyeliner. Oh, and I decided to take up the guitar, because I thought it would make me look cool...But anyway, was there anything interesting in the Transfiguration reading? I didn’t have time to do it because I was up until three a.m. reading about Lethifolds and now I’m fucking obsessed. Did you hear about the bloke who staged an attack in an attempt to leave his wife? If it were me, I would never have been caught. What a fucking amateur! But let me tell you, If Draco tried that shit, he would wish the Lethifold had got him. Because I would slowly and painfully murder him myself. And you can take that to Gringotts!”

This one-sided conversation was just one of hundreds of items on Hermione’s list of why she was grateful not to be in the same House as Astoria. There’s no way she would have been able to tolerate the overdue library books and mugs missing from the Great Hall that apparently cluttered not only Astoria’s bedroom, but numerous nooks and crannies of the Slytherin common room. In fact, so many mugs went unaccounted for that one of the house-elves threatened suicide; Astoria solved that problem by personally purchasing a large order of mugs with the Slytherin crest and proceeding to leave _those_ all over the castle. As for the library situation--Astoria apparently thought it was a better use of her time to create various disguises to elude Madam Pince instead of simply making the effort to meet a _very reasonable_ expectation. Because it was not a laughing matter for a student to so _obstinately_ refuse to return the books in the _respectful_ and _orderly_ manner that befitted a sanctuary of knowledge. It _really_ bothered Hermione, alright? 

Malfoy and Greengrass deserved each other, in Hermione’s opinion. So she didn’t regret telling him not to cock it up with her (in nicer words of course, because Hermione was nowhere near as publicly foul-mouthed as Astoria). If anyone in the school had to put up with her, it should be Malfoy. That was one thing on which Hermione could wholeheartedly agree with Greengrass. She may have completely renounced pureblood supremacy, but it was obvious to Hermione that she was headed straight for Knockturn Alley. In Astoria’s own words: “I’m always running at least five different schemes. I wish they offered a NEWT in Con Artistry, because I could teach that course.” Astoria’s aspirations to become the upper-class answer to Mundungus Fletcher may have charmed even some of the older Gryffindors, but Hermione was not impressed.

The worst part was, Greengrass took pains to be friendly towards her, so Hermione couldn’t publicly express her hostilities to the extent that she would have liked. Astoria may be the leader of what was quickly becoming one of the most infamous cliques Hogwarts had ever seen, but she wasn’t exactly unpopular. Everyone (professors included) had a complicated love-hate relationship with her. Astoria was still on good terms with Dumbledore’s Army, but she had made it clear to everyone that she and Malfoy were “a two-for-one deal--no returns, no exchanges--and I’ll tell you just where you can shove your complaints.” She had a habit of sending messages via Patronus just to show off the imposing dragon her Charm produced, to everyone’s annoyance except Malfoy’s. Hermione knew it didn’t make a lick of difference in the spell’s effectiveness, so it absolutely did _not_ bother her how that thing was three times the size of her own otter Patronus. It was yet another demonstration of Astoria’s inflated ego and nothing more.

When exam time came around, Hermione knew she’d have the last laugh. The sixth-years had been permitted to take NEWTs based on professors’ recommendations, with their ability to continue on in seventh year contingent on their performance on the postponed OWLs they would sit this year. So now there were twice as many anxious students in the castle as the spring term progressed. With one exception.

Hermione was enjoying her precisely scheduled forty-five minutes for lunch one Sunday when her peace and quiet was interrupted by Astoria animatedly recounting a story to Ginny as they approached the Gryffindor table. 

“Have you done any work at all this week?” Ginny asked Greengrass bemusedly.

“No, but I did do the _Daily Prophet_ crossword in record time this morning, and Finch-Fletchley is teaching me how to cheat at cards, so I think it’s been a very productive weekend.”

“As Head Girl, I do not condone this behaviour...but McLaggen thinks he’s brilliant at poker when he’s actually shit, so please clean him out before you victimise anyone else.”

“Say no more, it’s a done deal. Speaking of your Head Girl duties, anything you hear about a little soiree in Slytherin tonight has zero truth to it,” Astoria said with a wink.

“I thought you had to submit a Charms essay tomorrow,”

“You know what I always say. Due tomorrow? Do tomorrow!” was Astoria’s reply.

The next day, Hermione headed to the upper-years’ common room to find that Greengrass had taken over half of the space; the girl was surrounded by a mess of books, parchment, sweets wrappers, and other detritus. At one point, Malfoy came through the door, just to immediately walk out again upon seeing the state of his girlfriend.

After twenty minutes of furious quill-scratching, Astoria looked up to meet Hermione’s eyes. 

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s putting me off. I have a process, alright? Merlin, I am so fucking stressed right now!” she exclaimed, before turning back to her parchment. 

Hermione understood that it must be difficult living with the knowledge of the blood curse, but that was no reason to waste her educational opportunities. Especially when the academic competition in her year seemed to be formidable. Professor Flitwick raved to Hermione a week later about a sixth-year’s work which he deemed the best response to the prompt that he had read in years. Competition wasn’t supposed to trump the sheer pleasure of learning, but Hermione would be mortified to fall behind her peers. 

She decided to try to be helpful and anonymously sent Astoria an enchanted homework planner similar to the ones she bought for Harry and Ron. According to Ginny, Greengrass responded to the kind gesture by chucking the gift in the Black Lake and telling her that, “someone must really hate me to send me this--it should be classed as a bloody torture device.” Well, if Astoria was going to be like that, then Hermione was content to let her crash and burn. Besides, she needed to buckle down and focus exclusively on her own exams. Which is exactly what she did, and her hard work paid off in the form of excellent NEWT results. 

She was out to lunch with Ron at a newly-opened cafe in Diagon Alley to celebrate when none other than the queen of conniving rushed in with Malfoy in tow. She frantically waved the envelope in her hand to get the attention of Pansy and Daphne, who Hermione didn’t realise until now were seated at a table in the back corner.

“I got my OWLs, but I’m too afraid to open it. Someone has to look for me,” she insisted.

Hermione broke off the conversation to turn in her chair and watch with interest.

Daphne carefully opened the letter, started to read, and then began to cry. She wordlessly passed it to Draco, who was rendered speechless, only blinking in awe. Pansy yanked it out of his grasp, and a few seconds later she shouted for practically all of Diagon Alley to hear, “MERLIN’S PANTS! NINE BLOODY OUTSTANDINGS?!” 

The entire place went silent for a moment, but then Astoria started screaming in excitement, and soon there were three screaming Slytherins and one who was trying very hard to pretend that he did not exist. 

Then Pansy decided to perform a dramatic reading of the letter (because of course Slytherins had no regard for the experience of anyone else in a public establishment). “Astoria Regan Greengrass has achieved,” she said in a grandiose voice, “Astronomy: O, Care of Magical Creatures: O, Charms: O, Defence Against the Dark Arts: O, Divination: O, Herbology: O, History of Magic: O, Muggle Studies: A--hang on, what? How the hell did you get an A in _Muggle Studies_? I didn’t even know you took that exam!”

“I told McGonagall that since she made Muggle Studies a mandatory subject, then she should let me sit the exam despite the fact that I was put in the “special” Slytherin class. Just because Tremlett hates me and gave me shit marks doesn’t mean that I couldn’t do well on the standardised O.W.L.”

“Ha! I can’t wait to rub this in her fucking face. You are an inspiration to us all, Astoria...anyway, where was I? Oh, Potions: O, Transfiguration: O. It’s unbelievable, how I can be mates with someone so clever.”

“Good to know how you feel about the rest of us,” retorted Draco, while Astoria laughed with glee as she looked at the results one more time, before launching into a celebratory dance. 

As for Hermione, she suddenly felt very hot and her pulse was racing. This could not be happening. No. No. No! Astoria was supposed to pay the price for all her poor decisions and nonexistent work ethic. 

This wasn’t fair. Not when Hermione had to endure the casual cutting remarks about her swottiness, her earnestness, her conscientiousness. Her own ambition that they mocked as desperation. It was worse when it came from those who were supposed to be in her corner; she’d privately ruminate about those moments when she couldn’t fall asleep. 

At least Parkinson and Malfoy had been clear about their verbal attacks--she always knew where she stood and Harry and Ron would launch themselves into the ring to defend her. But they didn’t always realise how insidious criticism disguised as helpful advice or well-intentioned concern could be. To the surprise of many, she had developed a strange rapport with her former Slytherin bullies, particularly Parkinson. It’s not like Hermione was going to sing their praises, but Pansy and Draco were honest about how fucked up they were. It was refreshing. Until now. 

Because it stung to see them proud of Astoria. Because she wished that she had given herself the chance to celebrate when her own OWL results came. That Ron had expressed more than a matter-of-fact summary of her grades and playfully lamenting the fact that she was disappointed by that lone “E.” That Harry had done more than laugh along. But they had known better than to congratulate her too enthusiastically, lest her self-doubt make her say something she’d regret later. 

Hermione became aware of how sweaty she was and she turned back around in her chair, intent on appearing collected on the outside.

“I was waiting for you to remember that I’m still here,” teased Ron. Hermione blushed.

“I can’t believe this!” she said to him in a low but furious voice. “It’s not fair. It’s just--not--bloody--fair!”

“I know, Hermione,” he said, attempting to comfort her.

“I bet she cheated. She’s always up to something. I heard Malfoy reminding her to ‘take her potion’ in the morning a few times,” Hermione whispered--well, she intended it to be a whisper.

“Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder,” a voice intoned from behind them. “That’s what they call it, in the Muggle world. Here, it isn’t officially recognised yet. I’ve been testing an amphetamine potion that Slughorn developed. That’s what Draco was talking about. And, no, I didn’t take it on exam days so don’t even start with that.” Astoria looked angry, but not the kind of anger that Hermione thought she would be showing. She looked more...hurt. It was a departure from the confident persona she usually flaunted.

“How do you know about ADHD?” Hermione asked.

“I’ve been on,” Astoria paused for effect, “the Internet.” Ron’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Technically it’s the World Wide Web--”

“--whatever!” Astoria cut Hermione off.

“What do you even do on this _Internet_ , Astoria?” Malfoy said, walking over to his girlfriend.

“You’re not ready for the Internet, love,” she responded flatly, affectionately smoothing the lapel of his jacket. Then she looked back at Hermione. 

“You know, I’ve come to accept the constant criticism of everything I do as an inevitable aspect of my life,” Astoria said. “But I honestly thought you would be different.”

Hermione bit her lip, and didn’t say anything.

Astoria continued, “For ages, I thought that I was just lazy and unmotivated. But I am an extremely motivated person. I’m a dreamer and a schemer, just not a planner. Not in the way that you are.”

“Imagine what you could do if you actually applied yourself.”

“Who says I don’t? You see me reading all the time. You know I go after what I want. We just go about it differently.”

“‘Differently’ is one way to put it.”

“I didn’t choose the Slytherin life, the Slytherin life chose me,” Astoria joked, but then grew serious. “There are loads of things I can’t do well. Maths in my head, household spells, reading music, remembering where the hell I put things without _Accio_. Anything that the good, sensible girls do. But I’m so done with people trying to tell me what I can’t do, so bloody done.”

“I hate when people tell me what I can’t do,” Hermione blurted out.

Astoria smiled. “I know you’re not nearly as uptight as people make you out to be. Everyone’s dazzled by Potter right now, but you’re a better leader in my opinion.”

That really took Hermione aback. Astoria saw _her_ as a leader?

“You know you can’t argue with me, Weasley,” she added, holding up her hand before Ron could add any of his own comments.

“Being constantly misjudged is fucking annoying, so try not to do it to us, yeah? My _squad_ and I--we’re not thick and we’re not _total_ villains. We’re sorting it out as we go, just like your lot.”

“I can’t even argue with that last part,” Ron said. “Haven’t the faintest clue if I’m doing this adulthood thing right most days.”

“All I know to do at this point is think, ‘what would Lucius Malfoy do?’ and then do anything but that,” Draco spoke up, putting his arm around Astoria.

His girlfriend laughed. “Words to live by, right there.”

“I do know what I want to do,” Hermione said in a slightly shaking voice. She swallowed. “I want to be Minister of Magic one day.” It was the first time she had ever said it to someone besides her parents.

Astoria raised one eyebrow in a very Malfoy-like expression. “Do you expect us to be shocked?” She grinned. “I’ve already predicted that it will take you less than twenty-five years. So now you have to do it, because everyone knows how much I love to be right.”

“That’s interesting,” Ron said, “because Harry and I have had that hunch since first year. Don’t have to be a Seer to know that.”

The look in his eye when he said that--this was one of those little moments when Hermione fell for him all over again.

“Well, it’s been fun catching up,” Astoria said, genuinely enough to draw an eye roll out of Malfoy, “but I have a bad reputation to uphold, so I simply _must_ plan a legendary night out to celebrate these results.”

She and Malfoy walked away from their table, and Hermione reached across to take Ron’s hand in hers.

“I never properly celebrated my nine ‘O’s either,” she said. “But I don’t want something as wild as whatever Astoria will do. I want something more...understated. More intimate.”

“That can definitely be arranged,” came Ron’s reply with a sly smile, the kind he saved just for her. 

Hermione was tired of the unrelenting echo of ‘not good enough’ in her head. It probably would be something she’d always have to live with, but right now she felt like turning the volume down, way down. So she did, and she let an unapologetic smile sweep over her face. It felt good. It felt really _fucking_ good. _You heard me right_ , she thought. It felt really fucking good. 

**Author's Note:**

> this one's for the smart girls who are living their best ADHD lives, like Astoria. like me. 
> 
> it's a self-serving fic and I don't care


End file.
